


Caress

by stephtron312



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU ASZ, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephtron312/pseuds/stephtron312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of pause at the ASZ, Daryl and Carol find the time to explore what's been building up between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caress

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in December so it takes place in my own fictionalized version of the ASZ. I just never got around to uploading it on here and thought you guys might like to check it out!! It was always my botched attempt at writing smut for the first time hahaha, which does come around in the second and third parts. Anyway, hope you like it!!

They still hadn’t figured out if coming to Alexandria was a mistake. It was different from what they had pictured. The compound, which was the beginnings of a large gated community housing project that was halted after the Turn, was fortified and spacious. Still, it very much looked like a post-apocalyptic playground. The houses were small, split in half to fit four to each section. Two main buildings, which would have been community centers in the old world, sat near the entrance. One was gutted and used for storage. Solid concrete walls enclosed the area, with guards on every corner. The grass lawns were unkempt, growing wildly as the job of landscaper hadn’t been factored in to the mix. The ASZ certainly didn’t care to keep up appearances of normalcy like Woodbury had, and it was shocking to see its ruin. Nevertheless, it was safe, and a place they could settle into.

As it was four to a unit the group had to be split up. They had all kind of stood around at first, all awkwardness and uncertainty of how they would break apart. Carl had immediately asked Michonne to stay with him and Rick. Tara and Rosita had taken pity on Eugene, promising to stay with him, while Abraham angrily stalked off far away from them. Sasha kept Noah close to her and Tyreese.

“You can stay with us,” Rick said, with a hint of laughter, “Apparently Judith doesn’t count as a full person yet.”

“You ain’t got enough room.”

Rick followed Daryl’s gaze and his eyes landed on Carol who was shifting uncomfortably, like a wallflower waiting to be asked for a dance. The sheriff nodded, his face faltering slightly. He should have known. Carol finally met their gaze, offering a small smile. Rick’s brows furrowed as Tyreese approached Carol, before he gave the archer a short push, “You might want to tell her then.”

He was at her side in a few short strides. Tyreese gave him a nod before patting Carol’s shoulder and walking back to his sister. Carol looked up at him and Daryl dropped his gaze to the ground, reflexively.

“Do you…um…you want to…?” he mumbled.

“Yeah, I do,” Carol smiled, her fingers wrapping around his forearm as relief flooded him.

Looking around, Daryl spotted the only option they had left for roommates, and a stiff sigh left him, “It ain’t gonna be our first pick, but they’ll have to do.”

Carol’s lips pursed as she swatted him half-heartedly, “Be nice! They might not be that bad.”

Daryl side-eyed her and gave her shoulder a nudge before falling in step behind her as she walked towards Maggie and Glenn.

Their units were all relatively close to one another. Daryl and Carol stood at the edge of the threshold, watching as Maggie and Glenn quickly retreated to a bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

“Not that bad, huh?” he scoffed, earning an eye-roll from Carol. She stepped in, surveying the space. To the left of the front door was an archway leading to an open but small living room and a kitchen with a plain wooden table and four chairs. The hallway she stood in was tight, leading to the two bedrooms which faced each other and a bathroom at the end of it. She trudged forward, the butt of her rifle scraping against the wall. Daryl shuffled in behind her as they reached the unclaimed room.

“Oh,” she said, looking at the queen sized bed that was splayed before them.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Daryl muttered, already turning to head back towards the living room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she twisted her neck to look back at him, “We’ve slept in closer quarters. It’ll be nice to have a real bed again.” She crossed into the room, putting her pack and gun down against the right side table.

He followed, placing his belonging along the left side and leaning his crossbow against the wall. With his back to her, he looked out the windows. It didn’t offer much as far as a view went, showing him the siding of the neighboring unit. Incidentally it was inhabited by the Grimes, along with Michonne and Father Gabriel. He continued to watch as the priest entered, placing his meager belongings on one of the twin beds. Curiously, Carl followed after him, haphazardly throwing his pack to the other bed which was beneath the window. He turned, spotting Daryl and waved enthusiastically. He smirked back at the boy, wondering about what must have taken place for Carl not to be bunking with his father. It had been pretty obvious throughout their journey to Virginia that Michonne and Rick had grown close to each other, and he could see in the way that Carl clung to her that they were becoming something of a unit. It certainly wasn’t a surprise that they had stuck together, but their bedding together was an interesting turn on things. He hadn’t quite realized they were that way with each other.

“This is going to be weird,” Carol said and Daryl’s body stiffened. There had been a chance, though he didn’t want to admit to it, that he had misread her. When the gate officiates explained that they should pair off to be assigned to the units he hadn’t missed that her eyes flicked immediately to him. Maybe it wasn’t as intentional of a look as he had wanted it to be, and she only agreed to living with him out of habit. Daryl had more or less attached himself to her hip since they had been reunited outside of Terminus, and after leaving Atlanta he pulled that tether even tighter. His anxious expression softened though as he turned to look at her and saw her run a hand over the light grey comforter, squeezing its soft plush and relishing the idea of it.

“You mean the bed?” he now edged closer to it, the material foreign in his calloused hands.

“Who knows how long this is going to last, but it’s been  _so_  long since we’ve had a bed to sleep in.”

He nodded, and her eyes flicked up to his. The joy of her smile was evident in those blue eyes and he found himself feeling swallowed by her happiness. It was a ridiculous luxury, but a sparse one. He couldn’t help but mirror her expression, a full smile spreading across his face. It had been too hard of a journey to not have some payoff, and that look in her eyes had been missing since the last time they had been at the prison together. Warmth spread through him, and he knew that as long as he could see her light up like this, then they had made the right call in coming here.  Their grins broke way to a soft laughter. A low but steady thudding interrupted them, and Carol glanced at the doorway across the hall. Glenn’s grunts were heard loud and clear through the thin plaster and Carol slapped a hand over her mouth. Daryl’s head dropped to his chest, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

As the rhythmic pounding continued, Daryl had had enough. He crossed the room.

“I ain’t listenin’ to that all day,” he grunted as he grabbed Carol’s hand and pulling her with him out the room and down the hall. Daryl made sure to slam the front door loudly upon their exit. 

 

“I thought it’d be more like Woodbury,” he said, breaking their comfortable silence. After checking in on some of the others, who were all trying to adjust to the idea of permanence, the pair decided to stroll along the grounds.

“What was it like there?” she asked curiously. 

“It just didn’t look like this. Looked like a real town, like something on television. There was grass and flowerbeds, Michonne said kids were runnin’ around all over. It felt weird there though, like it just didn’t belong.”

“Sounds Stepford-y,” she said, taking a minute to mind the cracked asphalt and a broken Stop sign, “at least this place looks like the world ended.”

“Don’t mean its any better,” Daryl chewed on his lip, holding in a worried sigh. She stopped walking and faced him, reaching her hand out to his exposed bicep.

“Hey,” she waited until his eyes met hers, “We’re here until we’re not. If things go bad, we’ll get out.”

“How?” he tried to let her confidence fill him, but there was still a nagging feeling in his pit.

A huff of air came out through her nose as she smiled up at him, “Who’s gonna stop us?”

“C’mon Carol, we ain’t invincible.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, but her eyes still glinted brazenly, “I think we’ve been doing pretty well so far.”

“We’ve lost a lot,” his tone was solemn as he continued to argue her nonchalance.

“Yeah,” she conceded, nodding as she looked around them, “Yeah, we have…but we’ve gained a lot too,” her eyes settled back onto his. His heart stumbled, missing a beat.

Pounding footsteps caused them both to look up and see Carl running full force at them. “Guys!” he shouted, “Judith’s walking! Come on!!” He was jumping in the street waving his arms at them like a flippant bird.

Carol smiled, a gasp escaping her as she curled her fingers around Daryl’s upper arm, hauling him along as she bounded back up the street towards the boy. They stumbled excitedly into the unit, and found Judith plopped on her butt in the middle of the living room. Michonne was kneeling behind her, trying to bring the baby back up to her feet as Rick babbled at her, attempting to coax another step out of her. Judith now aware of her audience as Daryl and Carol waited in the archway, Daryl’s arm above Carol’s head as he leaned against the wall, decided she had done enough and simply looked back at Michonne blankly. She let her legs go slack, and Michonne frowned, placing her back onto the floor.

“She did take a step though, I swear,” Carl said to the pair that he had prematurely ushered in.

“It wasn’t exactly walking,” Rick attested, standing with a groan from his seated position, “More like an accidental fall that she broke with her foot."

“It was very exhilarating,” Michonne tossed her head over her shoulder to wink at Carol. The other woman walked over to her, laughing at the baby who was now slumped comfortably against Michonne’s legs. Carol lowered herself to the ground, taking Judith’s feet in her hand, pinching gently. Judith roared with laughter, her head rolling back against Michonne’s thighs. Daryl smiled at the scene and Rick crossed the room to him.

“How’s everything going?” he said to the archer under his breath.

“It’s goin’ fine. Except for the two lovebirds fuckin’ like rabbits the minute we got in. Didn’t really feel like listenin’ to them go at it so we split,” Daryl said with a smirk. 

Rick scoffed, “They’ll calm down eventually. Probably not for a few days,” his eyes passed over Carol as she and Michonne were now chatting over Judith, “Everything else okay?”

Daryl followed his gaze, “Yeah, it’s good.”

Eventually, habit pulled everyone from their separate units and they were pooled into the cramped space of the Grimes’ house. They opted to share a meal together instead of heading down to one of the community buildings and eating with strangers.

“We have an empty bed, so if you ever need to, you can come by us,” Tyreese proposed to Carol, “I know how Maggie and Glenn can be… _relentless_.”

Carol snorted, “Thanks Ty. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Daryl too,” he added as an after thought, watching as the archer picked his way across the room to where he and Carol were leaning against the kitchen counter, empty plates in their hands.

“Hey,” Daryl said once he was in front of her, giving Tyreese a short nod.

“Hey,” she grinned.

“Wanna get out of here? Maggie and Glenn are pretty wrapped up in talkin’, so we might be able to actually get some sleep ‘fore they get back and…you know.”

“Enough said. Let’s go,” she turned dropping her plate in the sink, a slight ping of guilt at not washing it but the draw of being able to curl up in the soft sheets overcoming that thought. “Night Ty,” she called to her friend as Daryl followed her back to the front door, grunting his goodnights along the way.

Tara arched her brows at Glenn as they watched the pair leave together.

“Maybe we shouldn’t head back too soon, give them some privacy,” Glenn whispered to Maggie, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

The house was quiet. They stilled at the entrance, unsure of what to do with so much space and privacy. Carol made her way to their bedroom as Daryl thoroughly checked all the locks on the windows and door. Taking a minute to steel himself before entering, Daryl crossed the threshold of the room and clicked the door shut behind him.

She stood with her back to him, stretching out the kinks that plagued her spine, kicking off her boots. She didn’t have pajamas, and although it had been months since she had slept in anything but her regular clothes, Carol wanted to feel the normalcy of a real nights sleep. Making the decision to just sleep in her undergarments she began to strip of her jacket and blouse, leaving her in just a flimsy tank. Daryl toed off his own muddy shoes, and snaked out of his jacket and vest. He listened to her unbuckle her pants, his hands caught in arrest at the buttons of his shirt as her cargos fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, his eyes on the sliver of ass peeking out from the plain underwear she wore. She looked back at him suddenly, smiling from over her left shoulder before facing away again. Carol reached behind her, unhooking her bra with one hand and pulling out from underneath the tank top. Daryl drew in his breaths carefully.

They had been skirting around each other for so long, and now that they were finally in a place where imminent danger and convenient necessities weren’t a giant boulder between them, all those unspoken connotations between them grew heavy.

Carol slipped into the bed without even glancing at him. She would give him time, all the time in the world, if he needed it. The rustling of his shirt and pants let her know that he was as stripped as she was, and the weight of the bed shifted as he climbed in next to her. His throat made a small noise, and she rolled over to her back, turning her head to look at him.

Beneath the sheet his hand found hers, the tips of his fingers pulling at hers. She turned now to her side, facing him completely, flipping her palm over to take his hand in hers, while her left hand hesitated inches from his bicep. Daryl traced haphazard shapes into her palm as he rolled to his side, matching her form. Their breaths mixed together, the heady electricity shocking in the air.

They had had this conversation before. The night Merle died, Daryl had found his way to Carol’s cell. She knew he wanted comfort, so she stood with him under the dark blanket of night, and held him in her arms. His face had nuzzled her neck and in a rash moment he had kissed her bare shoulder. That smallest touch had sent sparks through her body, and he seemed to be forced back from her in the shockwave. His eyes held open with alarm as he stumbled out of her room.

Carol’s patience was infinite though. It was always a toe on the line with him, and she always toed it gingerly like a tightrope artist without the security of a net. She could give him all the time he needed, even if it was always slipping from them.

Daryl knew that the right moment would never come, and so he slipped his fingers from her palm and up her forearm. Tracing to her shoulder, that same shoulder he had laid his lips on. He shifted forward and pressed his lips to the spot once more, letting his stomach twist and his heart burn, riding out the anxiety such brashness instilled in him. Leaning his forehead against that soft spot still wet from his kiss, he listened to her breathe. He wouldn’t pull away from her this time. He was ready to see what happened next.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, raking a finger through his long hair. He nodded against her before continuing his journey, pressing his lips to her collar, the hollow of her throat, the spot beneath her ear. He pulled her beneath him, holding himself above her with his arms outstretched on either side of her shoulders and looked at her. As long as he could see those big blue eyes he could read her. She leaned up, wrapping an arm around his back and pressing her forehead to his.

And they waited.

 

And waited.

 

“We can give it time,” her breathe tickled his lips, “We have so much time now. 

“You just let me know where you want this to go. You lead and I’ll follow,” the words tumbled out of his mouth quickly as the desperation rose in his chest. He knew they both wanted this, but they were both so delicate and fragile, and waiting for each other was the only move they knew how to make.

Her kiss was so soft that he didn’t even realize it was happening at first. She was so attentive to him, always keeping his trepidation in mind, and so she fell back to the bed almost immediately. He stared at her unblinking, the moonlight bathing her in its soft glow. The hunger in her eyes matched his, he knew with certainty that this was as selfish as this woman was going to get. Dropping down to her with an arch of his back, he seized her lips fully. She gasped at the surprising force of his kiss. The tightrope had snapped and they were tumbling head first to the ground. 

Her hands gripped his just above his elbows as their mouths moved against each other, teeth nipping at lips and tongues tracing the sore spots. It felt like a familiar dream the she was all too afraid she’d wake up from and lose and she’d spend her waking hours trying to claw back to this feeling. The reeling, trembling, unbridling of everything they had kept guarded for so long, now spilling around them. It was too much. Carol brought her hand to his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“You okay?” he gaped, concerned eyes browsing her face. Gently, she placed her hands on either side of his neck, fingers brushing against the stubble of his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, “It’s just…a lot.”

Sighing he brought his head to rest on her just above her breast, one hand sliding up her shirt and stopping to count the ridges of her ribs. She tangled her fingers in his hair. Their free hands sought each other, and they entwined their fingers.

He rolled off her, and she turned to her side putting her back to his chest. Daryl folded his arms around her as she pressed against him, and placed soft kisses to the back of her shoulders and side of her neck. She traced her fingers along the muscles of his forearms that encircled her waist, inhaling at each brush of his lips against her skin. Turning her head to his, she kissed his jaw until he angled his head to capture her lips with his own. Carol broke the kiss, and rolled her body into his, nuzzling into the groove of his shoulder, her hand stretched across his chest as she curled into him further. Daryl rubbed her back, listening for her breathing to shallow and sleep to catch her, fighting to ignore the rush of need that was pooling at his pelvis. For now, this would have to be enough.  

Daryl always knew that when this happened it wasn’t going to be fast and it wasn’t going to be easy. It was never going to be about sex, or physical needs. This was about finally putting a name to all those glances and touches they had collected over the years. It was about maybe accepting that they weren’t all those things that had been beaten into them. Maybe they were worth something to someone. To each other. It was about learning that love didn’t come with a lash but with a caress.


	2. Marks

“Did Marisol come and talk to you?” Michonne asked, kicking a decently sized pebble out of her way as they walked down the street.

 

Carol nodded, “You too?”

 

“Mhm, what’d you tell her?”

 

A shrug and a sigh was her answer.

 

Michonne tightened her lips and nodded. Marisol, the twenty-something who led the officials simply known as the Assembly, had approached them separately asking them to join in a leadership position.

 

“I told her I’d rather stay on run crew. It’s simple, something I’m good at and it’s what I’m used to,” Michonne admitted.

 

“And it’s something to keep Rick worried over,” Carol pursed her lips and Michonne smiled at her. “But really Mich, in all seriousness, you would be a great leader. We never would have made it here if you hadn’t stepped up.”

 

Michonne swayed her head in consideration, “That’s true, but I can’t handle all this.” She waved her arms around at the people loitering as they were. It was a sizeable population. Marisol had told them they had one hundred and twenty residents, and room for almost a hundred more. “ _You_ , however, could.”

 

Carol scoffed.

 

“You ran that prison Carol. You know you did,” Michonne urged.

 

“I did my part, but the Council did all the decision making.”

 

“Were you not on the Council?” she badgered, her tone teasing.

 

“Well yes but—”

 

“So were you not making the decisions?” Michonne had that shit-eating grin on her face that was infectious.

 

“Yes and some of those got me kicked out,” Carol muttered beneath her breath.

 

“Hey,” Michonne halted, seriousness slipping back in, “I thought we worked through that. You know half of us would have done the same thing if we were thinking right. And that’s the point, we weren’t but you were. And that’s why you should join this Council.”

 

“Assembly,” Carol corrected her.

 

“Oh, whatever. C’mon Carol, it’s what you’re good at. Keeping your head clear and holding us above water.”

 

She sighed and shook her head, resuming their walk. “I don’t want to get too involved.”

 

Michonne’s eyebrows knit together, “Why?”

 

“Just seems like it’s too much of a good thing.”  
  
“You think it’s going to…” Michonne motioned the crumbling destruction with her hands, adding in her own explosive noises.

 

Carol snorted, “Yeah something _just_ like that.”

 

“It might,” Michonne shrugged, “Might not. Certainly is more solid than anything else we’d come across.”

 

Carol nodded. They walked past the small clump of children that were attending the haphazardly ran school. There were only a five of them ranging from seven to sixteen. Carl was resentfully sitting amongst them on the lawn. School was held in the teacher’s house, but on nice, warm days they took it outside to one of the neater grassy knolls.

 

“They’re going to need more space. I’ve seen more than a few pregnant bellies around here,” Michonne observed.

 

“People let their guard down. All of a sudden they have time to consider these things. Add in resources and safety, and it actually seems doable,” the horror that was Lori’s pregnancy and the stab of pain that her death still wrenched through Carol made her unwilling to find child-bearing to be anywhere near a good idea.

 

“So what have you and Daryl been considering?” a mischievous glint swept over Michonne’s eyes and she only looked more satisfied when Carol blanched.

 

“Oh, _you’re_ one to ask!”

 

Michonne smiled with such self-assuredness that Carol could barely help the grin that crept across her own face as she shook her head. “Like you said,” Michonne noted, “We’ve got safety and we’ve got time. Just made sense that if we finally were gonna stop being on the run we might as well stop running away from our feelings, too.”

 

“We’ve only been here for a week. And there’s all the,” Carol tried to mimic Michonne’s exploding sounds, “To consider.”

 

Michonne cocked an eyebrow, “We’ve been together for a hell of a lot longer than a week, some of you much longer than that. If you haven’t worked out yet how you feel about each other—”  
  
“I know how I feel about him,” Carol interrupted more curtly than she had meant to. She let her voice soften, “And I know how he feels about me. It’s just not simple…not for us.”

 

Michonne was aware of how Carol’s deceased husband had been. Rick had gone on idolizing rants to her about this woman’s implausible journey. It wasn’t a secret that he looked up to her, marveling at her ability to arise when all he felt was the decaying of who he used to be.

 

“Did Marisol ask Rick?” Carol broke their abbreviated silence.

 

“No. She wanted him for run crew, too, but he asked to be put on wall guard. He doesn’t want to take any risks of leaving Judith, or Carl, here without him. It’s smart.”

 

***

 

By the time Daryl had gotten back to the compound the night air had chilled. Fall was definitely upon them and that meant the hunting group would have to bag more game to get ready for the winter. He’d probably be taking trips out that stretched out over a few nights.

 

The house was quiet when he entered it, the only light emitting from the small lamp in the kitchen. There a plate covered by a cloth napkin waited for him. Carol, who volunteered for dinner shifts while she figured out where she wanted to be permanently placed, always had a plate waiting for him if he was gone on a hunt. Tonight it was whatever was left from the ducks they had bagged a few days ago, along with some tomato and cucumber salad from the gardens. He sucked it down quickly, still flavorful despite being cold, and licked the grease from his fingers. He shut off the lamp, routinely checked every lock and then headed for a shower.

 

Of all their amenities the shower was the one he was least used to. It wasn’t like he never showered in the prison, but the bathhouse style system they had, made him shy away from it. He only used it in the very early morning or the dead of night, not really desiring anyone to see him half naked and scarred, and even then his washing was far and few between. Now they had their own bathroom, with a lock on it that Maggie and Glenn made full use of as they typically showered together.

 

Daryl never bothered locking it though, because sometimes Carol would come in if she had to go to the bathroom, or needed to brush her teeth before hurrying off somewhere. Sometimes she’d come in to get ready for bed and they’d end up talking through the water and shower curtain. It felt ridiculously normal, like they were somewhere else a thousand years ago living mundane lives. He kind of liked it.

 

Wrapping a towel around his waist he hustled into their bedroom, not noticing the sliver of light that peeked out from under the door. He stilled when he stepped in and she was sitting up in bed reading a book. She looked up from the book and smiled at him before dropping her gaze back down. He closed the door and crossed to the dresser.

 

“You should be asleep,” he said to her, picking out the worn grey sweatpants that he slept in every night and the ratted black t-shirt.

 

“Yep,” she answered half-heartedly and he listened to the crinkling of the page as she flipped it.

 

He hesitated, unsure if he should just drop towel right there and then to get dressed or move back into the bathroom.

 

“I’m not looking,” she assured and Daryl let the towel go. She may have peeked, just for a second, before bringing the book up to her eyes and shielding him away in privacy. Carol committed to memory the firmness of his rear and the toned muscles that lined his back.

 

He slipped into bed beside her, a few droplets falling to the pillow from his hair. Begrudgingly, he let her cut it the day before. Carol dog-eared her page before setting the book down on the bedside table. She pulled her legs up to her chest, pulling her arms around them and causing the sheet to slip off her and down to her feet.

 

Turning her head to look at him, she asked, “How did the hunt go?”

 

Daryl shrugged, rolling to his side to face her. “It was alright. I was goin’ after this buck for awhile but it got away from me. Got a doe instead though.”

 

“That’s good. How are the rest of the guys? You’re warming up to them alright?” Carol knew he had been hesitant to join the hunting group when they had approached him. There were seven men that he’d half to go out there with, seven men that he didn’t know. He struggled not to settle into his defensive off-putting nature when he was around them.

 

“Yeah,” he huffed, “It’s okay. I like one of ‘em. Name’s Chopper, he’s the one with the really light hair, kind of longish in the front and gets all in his face? You know which one I’m talking about?”

 

“Wow,” Carol smiled at him, “You must have some crush on him if you’re noticing how his hair falls. Rick’ll be jealous!”

 

“Stop.”

 

She laughed, and he reached out to swat her knee. She caught his hand, keeping it pressed to her. “I think I know which one he is though. He seems nice.”

 

“He is,” Daryl said softly, his fingers trailing over her kneecap. “Anyway, the rest of ‘em seem okay too. Don’t talk that much which is fine. Suppose I’ll be getting more comfortable soon, with the cold startin’ in. Probably gonna be out there a few days at a time.” His fingers trailed down the back of her calf.

 

“I expected that,” he noted the distress in her voice and pushed himself closer to her. He took her hand that had been resting on the bed between them and tugged gently, inciting her to slink down into the bed.  

 

Daryl’s fingers ran up and down the arm furthest from him and she pressed her temple against his forehead. “I know you’ll be fine,” she said just above a whisper, “But that’s not going to stop me from worrying.”

 

“I’ll try not to be gone more than three days tops.” On his fingers next descent he continued on, letting them glide over the silken skin of her thighs, tickling at the fine hairs that grew there.

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” her breath caught as his fingers began to dig into the outer side of her leg, massaging the area. He liked how the muscles felt, toned and strong underneath the softness.

 

She gathered the fitted sheet beneath them in a fist when Daryl shifted his hand to the inner thigh of her opposite leg. Heat spread throughout her, thawing her in places he had yet to touch.

 

“Daryl,” she growled his name unsure if he was aware of the ache he was causing to grow within her. They had grown accustomed to small touches over the past week, allowing a kiss on the cheek in the mornings, a trailing of hands on arms and shoulders during the day, and the joining of their lips before they curled against each other to sleep at night. Once or twice in the darkness a hand slipped, pressing against a new stretch of skin for a minute or two before the sweltering of touch scared them away.

 

His forefinger brushed against a small patch of rough skin at the height of her thigh just below the joining of the pelvis bone. He stopped, pushing himself up on his forearm to get a better look at it. It was an angry but faded red mark, the size of a cigarette butt.

 

Carol opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, a melancholic look clouding over him. She looked down herself, realizing what had distracted him and she ran her own hand across it. “That was for overcooking the steak one night. He liked it medium-well, but it was more on the well done side.” Daryl went to touch it again but she had twisted her lower body around before he could. She pushed away her nightshirt, pulling her skin up so he could see that on the back of her other thigh was an identical spot. “I think that one was either I had forgotten to fill the car back up with gas or I hadn’t remembered to pick up a new thirty rack of beer from the grocery store. Honestly, I probably did both.” Rolling onto her back once more she drew the nightshirt up above the waistband of her underwear, revealing a two inch long scar, “He did this one with a letter opener. I gave the garbage men too big of a Christmas tip.”

 

Daryl placed a hand to her hip, gliding his thumb across the raised skin, the feeling all too familiar. It overwhelmed him. She was worlds away from that woman. He wished Ed could be here to see the powerhouse she had become. He reckoned Ed probably would’ve shit his pants in terror. But—he wasn’t the only one who had given her scars

 

“And you got a nice new one on your shoulder because some dumb asshole made you get in a van that was falling off a bridge,” he grumbled. The gash from seatbelt hadn’t healed properly, especially after she had gotten run over by the cop car. There was still a faint line running down to her collar.

 

“That’s different,” Carol reached a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look up at her, “You didn’t mean that. Don’t ever compare yourself to him. I wouldn’t be in this bed with you if I thought you even had the most remote resemblance.” She pushed up and kissed him prompting his lips apart with her tongue. Continuing to push against him she managed to deepen the kiss and roll him to his back. Carol straddled his hips, and Daryl kept her steady with a hand around her waist. Sitting up on him, she broke the kiss and fixed her eyes on him. Slowly, with the tips of her fingers, she slinked the nightgown up higher and higher, revealing her by the inch until her fist was full of the material. She slipped it over her head in a smooth motion and tossed it to the floor.

 

Daryl was transfixed by the near nakedness of her. To see parts of her that had only greeted him through slipped towels and accidental glances being openly presented to him with such ease made him cry out for her. The sound of her name being whimpered by him crawled down her spine and she shuddered when he finally ran his hand down the length of her torso.

 

He dipped his hands down her curves and brought them back up the center of her tummy. Sweeping just beneath her bare breast he gripped her sides to bring himself up and closer to her. He ripped his shirt off and kissed her collarbone, deciding it was his favorite spot to start as he could feel her breast push against his trapezoids. Dipping down to her chest, he cupped his hands around the flesh, brushing a thumb against each nipple as he buried his face between her.

 

A gasp escaped her and she unconsciously ground her hips against him. His dick began to firm and she felt it press against her from below. Swept over by need, Daryl grabbed Carol around her waist, flipping them over and bringing her under him. He gripped her cotton underwear, gliding them down her legs and tossing them somewhere behind him. Pulling his pants down to his knee he kicked them off as well, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor. Crawling over her, he kissed her gently, trying to slow down and not be hasty.

 

Carol could feel him against her, not quite prodding into her but close enough. She tightened instinctually and Daryl broke away from her when he felt her go rigid.

 

Her eyes were shut tight in a grimace. Daryl lay a hand gently to her cheek, “Hey, it’s okay. We can stop.”

 

“I tell you not to compare yourself to him and yet I…I’m sorry,” she looked away from him, chastising herself for still having these old demons. “I just haven’t had to deal with this yet.”

 

“I know, I know,” he soothed her, brushing against her cheek, coaxing her to look at him again. “I get it. He left stuff behind, and not just the marks I can see.”

 

She nodded, smiling despite her crumpling face. He cared about her so much, in every incredible way, and she wasn’t sure how she’d ever gotten so lucky. Of all the people to meet at the end of the world, she found one that completely loved her.

“We can just go to bed,” he offered, his knuckles treading lightly down her arm.

 

She fussed, writhing beneath him, caught between her anxiety and her desire. Daryl bit at the inside of his cheek, and when he spoke he was shy and quiet, “Maybe there’s something else I can do…somethin’ he never would. Might be easier if we start with that?”

 

“There’s a _lot_ of things Ed never did. For all his stupid machismo, you’d think he was afraid of…anyway I couldn’t ask you to do that. He used to say the taste made him gag.”

 

“I’ve eaten raw squirrel guts. I’m pretty damn sure you’ll taste like a treat,” a smug smile crossed his face when she flushed. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, leaving a trail of barely there kisses down her jaw and her neck, and murmuring against her skin between the touches. “You can ask me to do anything. Don’t need to worry about scarin’ me off.”

 

He kissed the top of her breasts. “I may not really know what I’m doin’, been a long time and I never really did mix things up before. But I’m willin’ to try.”

 

He kissed down her center to her belly button, moving over to press his lips to the scar at her hip bone. “I might not do it right, so just gotta tell me what it is you want.”

 

She squirmed beneath him as he lifted her right leg up, kissing the scar at the back of her thigh before placing it over his shoulder, “I think you’re doing just fine.” She was breathy and it made him dizzy to have caused her to sound so out of it. He pressed at her other thigh, spreading her out in front of him.

 

The smell hit him, pungent and strong but fragrant and so very Carol. He thought Ed was an idiot. He pushed back the curls that draped over her, the hairs darker than the grey on her head, and drew a thumb down the center of her fold. She spasmed and he looked up, checking in that everything was still okay. She bit her lip, her chest heaving already and he hadn’t even gotten started. He smirked, lowering his mouth to her, letting his tongue roll a slow lick from her base to the top, circling around the swelling nub of her clit. Carol’s back arched. “Shit,” she bit out the sharp curse between her teeth.

 

Her vulgarity encouraged him and he continued to let his tongue roam over every part of her folds, taking note of the ways she twitched and moaned when he hit certain parts. Her hands beat at the mattress as she twisted, pushing her pelvis further against his mouth. Sucking and flicking at her clit in quick procession, he gripped his arms around her thighs tightly to keep her from bucking too hard. Sweat slicked her skin as she struggled to keep control over herself, having to close her eyes and clench her fists to keep the dazed feeling from overpowering her. Periodically he flicked his eyes up, just to be sure her struggles were a good kind and she wasn’t flashing back to a worse place and time.

 

“Daryl,” her voice was quick and she sat up, watching his head bob up and down between her legs. He moaned against her and the vibration made her feel light and floaty. The muscles within her began to clamp at nothing and a husky growl emitted from her. She was holding back her groans, trying her best to not give Maggie and Glenn the satisfaction of the performance they had been awaiting to hear.  Rocking her hips against his face, he knew she was close and when she suddenly went limp, lowering herself back to the grey sheets that had been tossed all around them, he moved away, kissing and biting at her inner thigh. He left a mark.

 

It took Carol a few beats to catch her breath and he had found his way beside her by time she was able to draw in air sufficiently. She turned to face him and kissed him deeply, her sweet slickness still on his lips. Daryl ran his hand up her back, cradling the base of her head. They pulled apart and he stroked her cheek with his thumb, beaming at her glow. “You’re beautiful,” the words were out of his lips before he had even thought them. She grinned, running a finger down the ridges of the skin on his back, “You too.”

 

Daryl reached over her to turn off the lamp on her bedside table, and then lowered himself back beside her. She stayed on her side to face him, entwining their fingers and bringing their hands up to kiss his knuckles. “Thank you,” she said.

 

“Anytime,” he smirked and she blushed.

 

She shook her head, coupled with a small laugh, “No, I mean, for being considerate of me. Not everyone would have your patience.”

 

He nodded, holding a hand to her back and pushing her naked body further into his. She curled against him and he drew the comforter around them, tucking it in on her other side.

 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t take care of your…mhm…needs,” she mumbled against his chest, laying a quick kiss to a spot above his tattoo.

 

“We’ll try again next time,” he smoothed her hair, kissing the crown of her head.        


	3. Before & After

In the earliest hours of the morning the sun spilled into the kitchen at a perfect angle. Glenn liked to sit in the wooden chair, watching as the sunbeams danced across the Formica counter top. It made the small house seem like home, weirdly picturesque and not really fitting into the reality of the world, but he supposed a lot of things were like that now. Through the grime and desolation there were still hints of beauty.

 

The way the light glinted off the aluminum faucet reminded Glenn of Michigan. More specifically of his grandmother’s kitchen which was decked out in checkerboard tiles and the silver fixtures. He and his sisters would trudge down the city street to her apartment every Saturday morning for breakfast. On special occasions she would make omelets. It probably wasn’t a Saturday, and it certainly wasn’t a special occasion but Glenn decided to try his hand at omelets anyway.

 

“What is this?” Daryl asked, pointing aggressively at the yellow mess in front of him.

 

“It’s an omelet,” Glenn’s previously sunny disposition was diminishing quickly. They were too runny, and when he flipped it he ended up splattering most of the counter with bits of egg and tomato. Still he was proud of his work.

 

“Wow, thanks Glenn. This is a nice surprise,” Carol said, coaxing Daryl to sit beside her while she stifled a small laugh.

 

Daryl sat, shoveling the omelet by the forkful as quickly as possible. It didn’t taste nearly as bad as it looked. He was mostly putting on a show of disgust just to get on the younger man’s nerves—a favorite pastime of his. When Maggie appeared just a few moments later, she looked from the snarling expression on Daryl’s face to the plate that Glenn had set for her, and decided to grab a granola bar from the cabinet giving a gentle kiss to her husband. “Sorry sweetie,” she smiled at him, “But that is in no way an omelet.”

 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Carol said nonchalantly, turning to Daryl, “I snuck some extra granola bars from the commissary; they’re in your pack.”

 

Daryl grunted, finishing off his breakfast.

 

“I gotta get goin’, supposed to meet Chopper before we head off,” he wiped his mouth with the edge of his shirt before standing. He looked to Carol, expectantly and she stood with him, walking him to the door. She held his vest in her hands while he threw his jacket on, handing it to him when he was ready, along with a pair of mittens that pulled back to reveal fingerless gloves. Shoving the gloves into his back pocket, his pack and crossbow in hand, he darted his eyes towards the kitchen. Glenn and Maggie snapped back from their peering positions. Glenn muttered a curse under his breathe straining his ears to listen to the sound of lips smacking against each other. He grumbled when all he could hear was Carol whispering, “Stay safe.”

 

“You’re gonna have to be sneakier than that,” Carol tossed at them, a joking smile dancing on her lips as she walked past them and back to her bedroom.

 

***

 

Three nights later, just as the sun was casting a glare of reds and yellows across the sky (the only bout of color in the otherwise dreary day), the hunters re-emerged from the woods. Their faces were flushed and wind slashed, rubbing their hands together as they jogged through the open gates. A flash of red appeared in front of Daryl.

 

“Looks cold as a bitch out there,” Abraham said, leaving his guard post and walking with Daryl along the street.

 

“Winter’s gonna be rough, probably worse then when we was out on the road,” he hated the sight of his ghostly breathe hanging in the air.

 

“Yeah, but that’s when it’s nice to have some sweet company at night to keep you warm,” Abraham nudged Daryl with his elbow, adding an ever classy wink.

 

Daryl grumbled in response but he knew Abraham wasn’t the type to let up, especially when he had an opportunity to brag about all the sex he was having. After three weeks of living with some guys in a house on a far corner the sergeant had dragged himself back to Tara, Rosita and Eugene’s unit, groveling at the younger girls’ feet for them to take him in. Frat living wasn’t quite up to his standards. So he moved in with them, forgiving Eugene enough to share a living quarters, although it was Tara now that had to deal with his snores.

 

“You dipping into that yet?” he continued to press. Daryl’s eyes widened before narrowing dangerously, but Abraham wasn’t fazed at all. He let out a hearty laugh, “Just saying, Carol is a damn fine woman. If I didn’t have a darlin’ of my own—mmm, you wouldn’t have been the only one snugglin’ up to her last winter.”

 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Daryl’s seriousness only riled the redhead up more.

 

“Aw c’mon Dixon, if you’re not giving it to Carol then who the hell you getting it from? Ain’t a man alive than can lost this long without some hot pu—”

 

“We’re doin’ just fine!” Daryl cut him off just as a pair of children—he was pretty sure they were siblings—walked passed them.

 

His flaming eyebrows rose up onto his forehead and a smirk danced across his mouth, “So you are doing it?”

 

Daryl groaned.

 

“Well, word of advice, son,” Abraham clapped a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, which did not help ease him at all. He was sure any advice Abraham had in this area was not worth its weight in spit, and his approach was probably closer to Merle’s. He’d heard Merle’s in-and-out, one-two-three pump technique and sworn success stories all his life. And that was what Daryl had adhered to when it came to sex before. It hadn’t even occurred to him that there was another way to go about it. Hell, even when he had skimmed through a Cosmo or two, trying to see what it was like from the woman’s perspective, it was all about the male orgasm anyway. So he always figured as long as he was coming, it was all good.

 

But that wasn’t how it was with Carol at all. He enjoyed taking things at a slower pace. It wasn’t that he thought she was some fragile and delicate thing that needed to be treated with kid gloves, but there were so many things about her that he wanted to know. He wanted to take his time in discovering it all. Like the way her lips twisted when he traced the sensitive skin by her hip bone, or how he couldn’t help the moans that escaped when she nipped his earlobe. He never realized these were things worth knowing about a person, but he could write a whole encyclopedia on every muscle twitch and spasm he gave her. 

 

“Just don’t let Eugene find out. Little perv gets a whiff that you’re taking your lady to pound town and you’ll have to be extra sure to draw those curtains tight. Unless you get off on that sort of thing,” Abraham was beaming as Daryl squirmed from his grip.

 

“There’s something wrong with ya’ll,” Daryl grumbled before they parted. Abraham’s whistling of an old army tune carried Daryl almost the whole way to his house.

 

***

There wasn’t often a time when everyone was at the compound on the same night. With Daryl often away for days at a time on hunts, or Michonne gone on runs that weren’t quite as simple as they should have been, or even Carol who rarely left but was often stuck in late night meetings with Marisol and the Assembly discussing water filtration systems, education standards for the children, or lately, strategies for maintaining a militia and escape route in case of an attack, the group rarely got to see each other.

 

It was a treat for them all to be gathered at Tyreese and Sasha’s. Daryl had kept an extra cut of venison on the side and Carol foraged some vegetables and herbs from the kitchens so they could have a mini feast in their friends’ home. It was cramped with all of them, but the familiar feelings of being squished in small places with each other brought out a coziness and warmth that was sometimes missing when they were all spread apart.

 

“So?” Tara nudged Glenn, tilting her head towards the kitchen where Daryl and Carol stood together. She was washing dishes while he animatedly babbled at her. Occasionally she would laugh, or turn to him with her nose scrunched up and a horrified look on her face.

 

“Nothing substantial yet,” Glenn sighed.

 

Months prior Tara had assumed that Daryl and Carol were romantically involved with each other, but it wasn’t until Glenn went on a tirade outlining their lack of overt courtship even though there was a clear pining and love in all of their interactions. Since then, it had become Glenn and Tara’s mission to find a way to put a clear label on it, by either catching them in the act, or having one of them confess their status. All for curiosity’s sake, of course.

  
“Leave them alone,” Maggie whispered between clenched teeth.

 

“Oh, come on,” Glenn rolled his eyes, but kept his voice low and soft, “You were the one staring all wide eyed and expectant when he got back yesterday. And that got us nowhere.”

 

“I was just waiting my turn to say hello!” she bit back, her cheeks flushing.

 

A boot kicked Glenn’s back and he turned to see Michonne, who was seated on the couch he was leaning against. She nodded her head towards the kitchen. They looked up to see Daryl reach over to the hair sticking out by Carol’s ear. Soapy suds clung to it, and with an ever slight grin on his face, Daryl ran his hand over the pieces, before curling it around his index finger and tucking it behind her ear. Carol’s eyes closed, a smile on her lips. Her eyes opened and they stared at each other in that gut-wrenching, soul searching way that they tended to do, which to them was just an ordinary glance but to those on the outside felt enchanting.

 

“I’d say that’s substantial,” Tara muttered.

 

They continued to watch as Daryl’s lips drew to a line, his expression serious and eager. His eyes darted between her lips and her eyes, and Tara grabbed Glenn’s hand in anticipation. The small audience subconsciously leaned closer, mimicking Daryl’s own slight movement, and they waited with certainty for the kiss that was to take place. And then suddenly, a hand came to rest on Carol’s shoulder and she looked behind her as Rick walked up to the pair. He said something that made her smile, and Daryl scoff. The moment had passed.

 

“Every time!” Glenn groaned while Michonne cackled. He looked back, glaring at her, “You have to fix this.”

 

“Hey,” she said between laughs, “It’s not my fault that your episode of Matchmaker got cut off! Besides it’s time for my favorite show—Officer Booty.”

 

***

“You’ve got to stop teasing them,” Carol laughed as she and Daryl walked away from Tyreese and Sasha’s, the fall leaves crunching beneath their feet.

 

“I will, when it stops being funny. But I just don’t think I’ll ever get tired of Glenn’s frustrated face,” he scrunched his mouth up, mimicking the ever-exhausted look Glenn gave whenever he couldn’t catch them making out—or whatever it was he was looking for.

 

Despite her best effort, Carol laughed. She looked behind her quickly before sliding her arm underneath the crook of Daryl’s elbow, moving closer to him.

 

“I did though…want to kiss you,” he said quietly, patting her gloved hand with his own. “It’s just…”  
  
“Uncomfortable?” she finished for him.

 

His nod was almost imperceptible. She squeezed his arm reassuringly before taking her hand back and moving a step away from him. A happy sigh escaped her, the cloud of breathe hanging in the air, as she crossed her arms comfortably in front of her. Daryl made his own quick look around before sidling next to her and hastily pecking her on the cheek. He blushed, avoiding her gaze as they continued to walk.

 

The house was icy and Carol went to boil some water for the hot water bottles to place in bed with them. When they were ready she placed them underneath the fitted sheet at the lower end of the bed. They got in quickly, huddling close to stave their shivering.

 

“I can think of other ways to warm up,” she hinted, her eyes bright and coquettish as she pressed against him, her hands traveling beneath his shirt and up his torso.

 

It was stunning to him, the way she always wanted to touch him. Not just because he was another warm body and she liked the comfort, but because he was who he was. The possibility of being in love wasn’t one that had ever really crossed his mind. Not because he thought he wouldn’t ever find someone to love, but it was always drilled into his conscious that he was so incredibly unlovable. Redneck trash. Angry, spiteful, stunted Daryl.

 

Sometimes he was like that, he certainly never tried to deny that part of himself. He always figured she had found something beautiful beneath all the roughness, but Carol loved the whole picture. She loved his callousness and ferociousness. She loved the disgusting way that he slurped his food, and the way his eyes narrowed to tight slits when he was pushed too far. She loved him all over.

 

Warming his hands by pressing them to her back beneath her nightshirt, Daryl pushed closer to her. He buried his head in her neck with a kiss.

 

What she hadn’t expected was how eager he was to touch her. To have her pressed up against him naked, even if they were just lying there. She hadn’t considered how much delight he would take in caressing each stretch of skin, kissing and tantalizing from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

 

 

It was weird for her, to come home to a man with warm hands and a warmer heart. Even before the Turn, in her happiest days with Ed, he had never been so forthcoming towards her. He always gave off an air that he was settling. Carol figured she tried her hand at romance and it was such a floundering mishap the first time that it wouldn’t be worth another go. But here Daryl was—covering her with his quiet love.

 

She whispered his name and he looked up at her, pausing to kiss her before letting her speak her piece. “I really love you,” she said, swallowing back the rest of a speech. There was more she wanted to say but she didn’t have to. He knew. Safety was never something that could be guaranteed, especially so in this new world they thrived in. Everything was here and now, and the most important thing was their soft bodies flushed together with their loving words and exploring hands. They could wake up tomorrow and the world might end all over again—but at least this happened. Their love was a reality that no force in the universe could unravel.

 

His mouth was warm and light as he whispered his admission for her only, “I love you.” His lips covered hers, sealing their proclamations deep inside their beings—to carry forever through this ever cruel and negligent Earth.

 

Their kisses lasted lifetimes and hands traveled freely. Heat rose beneath those grey sheets and despite the chilly air, Daryl removed her nightshirt. She clung to him as he trailed down to her breast, kneading and massaging with his mouth and tongue. Fingernails lightly traced inside her thighs as he wrapped her legs around him so he could settle there. Dancing closer to her center, Carol arched, pushing her naked self closer to him. She grabbed at his shirt as his thumb dipped down to graze her clit. With the building of speed and friction her moans grew, and Daryl dropped sweet and slow kisses down her belly as he moved downward.

 

“Wait,” she said and he halted, mouth hovering over her folds. Concerned and confused he looked up at her. She was breathing heavily, a mixture of nerves and lust. “I want you. All of you.”

 

Daryl smiled into her thigh, nipping lightly before turning his attention back to her slickness. He licked in earnest, probing at the little spots that he knew set her off. She bit her lip, closing her eyes tight, but the warmth spread from her center and she was grinding against his mouth without meaning to. A gasp built in her chest but before it could make it out he was gone. She whimpered in frustration feeling the bed shift with his movements and when she opened her eyes again he was lying beside her, smug contention on his face.

 

Panting his name she snaked an arm around his neck and kissed him deeply. Her other hand grazed over his erection and he whined at the touch. She pushed his pajama pants down eagerly and Daryl broke the kiss to help remove his clothes. Exposed and silent they pressed their foreheads together, letting the air fill and deplete them of their hesitance. Carol cradled his head, laying a kiss gently to his waiting lips. She pulled back leaving just enough space for air to slip through before settling her lips upon his again.  Hooking her leg to his hip, she rolled him to his back, never breaking their tender, evolving kisses. When she pulled away, Carol smoothed his hair from his face, her eyes so adoring as she gazed at him. She allowed him one last brush of her lips before she sat up. He tried to chase after her, intent on catching her lips again but she stilled him with a hand on his chest. Every second he spent not kissing her felt like an opportunity missed.

 

Looking down at his erection as it pressed against her thigh as she straddled him, she reached and stroked him slowly. His resolve crumbled, his face softening in bliss as he hit the pillow beneath him. He was helpless; all that control he always kept tightly wound falling to the wayside with every drag of her hand. It was all he could do to run his hands up her thighs and try to keep himself grounded and pulled together.

 

“Carol,” he sighed when she shifted her body. He sat up as her grip changed, and she was ready to guide him into her. “If it gets to be too much, if I hurt you or if anything at all…” he was rambling, caught in a need to reassure her but to also be buried inside her deepest darkest corner. Her smile quieted him and she kissed him, the words moving against his lips as she promised him, “It’s okay.”

 

His hands clenched her hips as the she took him in slowly. The walls of her massaging tightly around him was overwhelming and he dug his forehead into her collarbone. “Relax,” she soothed shifting forward to take him in more deeply. He bucked up and the sound of her moan made him woozy. Her hips began to roll and he encircled his arms around her. Leaning up to press soft kisses to her collar and the hollow of her throat, he groaned against her skin. Her movements sped up and he braced himself with one hand behind him to keep up with her.

 

His breathing hurried as he continuously sighed her name to the heavens. Carol reached down between them, finding her clit and rubbing furiously. The sight caught Daryl’s breath and a string of curses gushed forth. “Fuck, Carol. Jesus Christ.”

 

He came quickly, holding himself against her as his body convulsed. Bringing his hand over to replace hers, he stroked her with fervor until she choked out her orgasm against his shoulder. Cradling each other they let their bodies twitch of their own accord, placing convenient kisses until they finally relaxed.

 

The world ended. For everyone there was a before and there was an after, and everyone else looked at the before with forlorn gazes and nostalgic cries. But the before had done nothing for them. Now in the after, everyone tried so hard to feel normal. Their love was their mark on this godforsaken world, and he was content as long as this moment, and all the moments like it stayed preserved and perfected. It was a privilege to know her as the moon set upon her face, and her breathing slowed to a soft hum. To wake up with his back pressed against her as she bathed him in healing kisses and morning greetings. Daryl knew with an unwavering certainty, that any day he could end pressed against her was the mark of the world gone right. The world could end one hundred times over as long as he always ended up in her arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys!!! xx


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